


Love Bites (And So Do I)

by plutosrose



Series: Stucky Bingo 2020 [8]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: A Literal Century, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Vampire, M/M, Pining, Requited Love, the tiniest bit of humiliation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-29
Updated: 2020-12-29
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:35:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28410096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/plutosrose/pseuds/plutosrose
Summary: “Steve, you want to tell me why there are erotic drawings of me in the Smithsonian?”
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Series: Stucky Bingo 2020 [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1830826
Comments: 15
Kudos: 155
Collections: Stucky Bingo 2020





	Love Bites (And So Do I)

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by this post: https://www.instagram.com/p/CIWXyyZpZkS/?igshid=14i3u32of3maa

When Steve got out of the shower that morning, Bucky was sitting in the arm chair in the bedroom, staring straight ahead and holding up a brochure.

“Steve, you want to tell me why there are erotic drawings of me in the Smithsonian?”

Steve blinked, large blue eyes becoming even larger, tightening the towel around his waist to have something to do with his hands.

“I--well, I don’t think that the National Gallery of Art is technically the Smithsonian,” he said weakly.

Bucky got up, and pushed the brochure into his hands. And, okay, on the front of it, there was a drawing of a man that looked unmistakably like Bucky, naked, all soft light and hard angles, with the words, ‘Queer American Art in the 20th Century.’

See, in the mid-1940s, both he and Bucky had--depending on how you looked at it--the fortune or the misfortune--of being immortal beings.

Well, vampires. Technically, Steve supposed, they were vampires. Their hearts had stopped, they didn’t need to sleep or breathe, they both developed very strong allergies to sunlight, and they needed blood to survive.

Bucky, however, had pointed out that no one, in the history of film and television, had sounded dignified when they called themselves vampires, so they didn’t either.

To be fair, they didn’t stay in one place long enough to be close to telling anyone what they were (they’d had a couple of love affairs, both of them, which had abruptly ended the moment that it had become impossible to explain why they were still in their mid-20s when they weren’t supposed to be in their mid-20s anymore), and those few vampires they did find, like those who had turned them, were so far gone by the time they’d caught up to them, that driving stakes through their hearts had been frankly, extremely generous and kind of them.

The point was, they’d been alive for a while. And occasionally, they had to leave town on a moment’s notice. So sometimes, things they forgot they had ended up in places they shouldn’t have.

Or in this case, in a museum that they weren’t supposed to be in.

Steve recognized the drawing--it was from one of his notebooks that he’d filled up a long time ago. It was Bucky, lying in bed, sheets slipping off of his body as he slept. They hadn’t been ‘immortal beings’ long enough to completely give up mortal things like sleeping. They’d been in Arizona, because Bucky had always wanted to see the Grand Canyon, and Steve had finally been convinced that they’d been officially dead long enough for no one to recognize them if they saw them.

And Steve had been stupidly overflowing with love and affection for his best friend that he hadn't been able to stop himself from sketching him.

“It’s really quite interesting,” Bucky said, sitting back on the arm chair, legs spreading wide. “See, I was on a walk when I saw the banner outside, so I went in, and took a look at the exhibit. This particular drawing is estimated to be from 1952, and it’s accompanied by a letter. You can buy a recreation in the gift shop.”

Steve wheezed. He remembered that letter, because he remembered everything when it came to Bucky. He’d just needed a way to get out his feelings, because it felt wrong to spring them on him when the two of them were bound together forever because of what they were. He didn’t want Bucky to feel obligated to love him back because they were both immortal.

So he kept his feelings to himself, and poured them into his journals and his sketchbooks. Bucky had always respected his privacy, had never pried them open, not even once.

But this was...Steve clenched his jaw and desperately tried to look like he had no idea what Bucky was talking about, which was both impossible and ridiculous, because he’d just been acting like he knew exactly what Bucky was talking about for the last few minutes.

Bucky leaned forward in a way that made Steve immediately stare at his crotch and then try very hard to not look at his crotch. “Yeah, uh, learn anything interesting? About uh...art?”

“Mhm,” Bucky said, lounging in the chair in the same way that had imprinted in his mind when he was in his actual twenties in the 1930s and not just his pretend twenties now. Steve felt the impulse to see him wearing a dress shirt and loosening his tie. As it was, Bucky was wearing a sweatshirt and jeans, all dark colors, and it felt unbearably modern for the fantasy in his head.

“Yeah? Like what?”

Bucky licked his lips, and Steve’s gaze immediately zeroed in on them. “The object of the artist’s affection was named James.”

“Oh,” Steve said, a blush creeping across his features. “What a weird coincidence.”

“Mhm.” Bucky’s gaze was piercing, electrifying. Steve felt a little weak in the knees in the same way he had when Bucky was young and alive had charmed every girl in their neighborhood with movie star looks. He’d once called him Brooklyn’s Rudolph Valentino, and it had only been half a joke.

Bucky stood up, striding forward, and running his fingers feather light against Steve’s chest. For the first time in about eighty years, Steve was almost convinced that he could feel his heart beating again.

“See, the most interesting thing about the letter, you know, aside from the bad poetry,” Bucky grinned wolfishly, and Steve leaned into his touch, which was still not enough. “Was that it was signed S.G.R. Isn’t that interesting? Steve, do you know anyone that has those initials?”

Steve shivered when the towel was abruptly yanked off of his hips. Bucky’s hand drifted lower and wrapped around his cock, which was thick and hard. “It’s interesting, I think. I wonder who that could be. He must love me a lot to want to create such beautiful pictures of me.”

Steve was practically clinging to Bucky now as he continued to stroke him, acting as though he wasn’t currently running his thumb against the head of his cock. “Did you know, Stevie, that sometimes the paintings in the National Gallery of Art are put on display in the White House? Can you imagine that? These little drawings of me in the same place the president lives?”

A wave of humiliation rolled up his spine, and suddenly he was coming and coming hard, Bucky licking obscenely at his palm. It awoke a visceral memory--the first time that Bucky’d fed, licking away the blood on his hands. It prompted Steve to surge forward and crush their lips together, before shoving Bucky back onto their bed.

-

His cock was still inside Bucky, his head resting on his chest as Bucky ran his fingers through his hair.

“Were you ever going to tell me?”

The wounded tone made his gut twist. “No. I didn’t think you felt the same way, and I didn’t want you to feel like you had to love me, just because neither of us can die.”

“How long?”

“Hmm?”

“How long have you loved me?”

“Since before I knew it was possible to love someone,” Steve breathed, coming in to press a kiss against his lips. Bucky was grinning, tears prickling at his eyes.

“You’re such a fucking dork.”

Steve grinned, peppering kisses against his jaw. “I’m not familiar with this modern lingo, but I assume that’s a good thing.”

“It’s really not.”

“Well, I’ve decided it is.”

Bucky smiled against his lips, fingers threading through his hair.

“I could break into the gallery though and get the drawings. I mean, if you want,” Steve murmured, and Bucky shook his head.

“I don’t know,” Bucky grinned wickedly. “I do kind of like being famous. You always said that I could be in the pictures, and now I am in one.”

“Okay, now who’s the dork? That was terrible,” Steve snorted. “Besides, it’s definitely more than one.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow. “Okay, then I might want this journal.”

Steve rolled his hips lightly, making Bucky shudder hard and cling against him. It might have just been his imagination, but Bucky felt warm and tight around his cock, and he didn’t want to give up this feeling just yet. “I’ll put breaking into the National Gallery on my to-do list. Anything you want, Buck.”

“Yeah, that sounds good,” Bucky gasped breathlessly, and Steve pressed gentle kisses against his neck.

There was nothing, Steve thought, absolutely nothing, in this eternity, that he wouldn’t do for Bucky Barnes.

A week later, the journal had mysteriously disappeared from the gallery, and he and Bucky had disappeared on a cruise to Alaska, so wrapped up in each other (both literally and figuratively) that Steve thought it was ridiculous that he’d never wanted to tell him he loved him.

  
Maybe eternity was blessed after all.

**Author's Note:**

> Love Bites (And So Do I)  
> Creator(s): plutosrose  
> Card number: 012  
> Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28410096  
> Square filled: E3, Vampire  
> Rating: E  
> Archive warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply  
> Major tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Pining, A Literal Century, Requited Love, the tiniest bit of humiliation  
> Summary: “Steve, you want to tell me why there are erotic drawings of me in the Smithsonian?”  
> Word count: 1,494


End file.
